Ripple
by morganna jade
Summary: A story about; Hermione, prophesies, Merlin and time. Full summary availiable inside.
1. Default Chapter

**Title: Ripple  
Disclaimer: **I do not own characters or ideas from Harry Potter, those belong to J.K. Rowling and I am mearly borrowing them. No copywright infringement is intended.  
**Rating: **Story as a whole: R (to be safe)  
**Cahpter Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Hermione Granger is a normal witch, well as normal as she can be when she's Harry Potter's best friend. Prophesies happen to Harry not her. Thats what she thinks anyway, until she is thrown into a world where prophesy is everything and most of them are about her. She always wanted to meet Merlin, pity she doesn't remember ever hearing about him.  
**Notes:** Okey this is the first story I've posted online in about five years so I'm a little nervous. I'd appreciate constructive critisim, although I'll be happy to recieve any review your willing to give me :) Hope you enjoy my story.  
**  
Chapter 1: The Beginning**

_Many years after all is said and done,  
__She will be born the key to unlock the past.  
__From obscurity she will ascend to greatness,  
__A ripple that shall undo what is done.  
_  
From the collected prophesies of,  
Morgana Le Fey

The sun was shining and the day was bright and clear, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was still and hushed, suspended in anticipation of some great event. The school was holding its first Ball, since the Yule Ball in Harry Potter's fifth year; it was to be held on Halloween. Today was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year.

Students and teachers alike were already moving in groups towards the village, excitedly whispering about the Ball, the costumes they were going to buy and the dates they were going to ask or bring. Everyone in the castle it seemed could talk of nothing else, even the portraits on the walls were speculating and placing bets.

Everyone that is except for one sixth year girl sitting in the library, mumbling, in a distracted way over a dusty old tomb.

"Now," Hermione muttered to herself, growing more and more vexed with every turned page. "I know it has to be here somewhere, I just saw it last week for heavens sake!"

"Hermione!" The loud voice rang across the deserted library, causing the brunette to start guiltily. "Here you are I've been looking for you everywhere." Ginny Weasley stormed across the library her face set in a disagreeable scowl.

"Ginny really," Hermione scolded, setting herself up for a long drawn out rant about the importance of quietness when in a library. "This is a _library_" Hermione began injecting into the word 'library' the same holy emphasis as one would use when saying 'church' or 'mausoleum.'

"You shouldn't shout and you most certainly shouldn't stomp. I know you've been out of sorts since Snape banned you from playing in the first quidditch match of the season, but really, you should have thought of that _before_ you threw your potions book into his cauldron. Which I might add is a disgraceful way to treat a book, not to mention the reaction it could have caused in the potion, you're lucky the cauldron just exploded...."

Hermione trailed off as she watched Ginny's expression get blacker and blacker, maybe reminding Ginny of the potions incident wasn't the best choice of topics to distract her from the reason she was in the library.

"Do you know what today is?!" Ginny exploded, tapping her foot and resembling her mother to a degree Hermione wasn't quite comfortable with.

"Er.." Hermione said articulately.

"I'll tell you what today is," Ginny said cutting her off. "Today is Saturday, the beginning of the Hogsmeade weekend, the _only_ Hogsmeade weekend before the Halloween Ball, the Hogsmeade weekend you promised to come with me so we could find costumes!"

"Ha," Hermione laughed nervously tugging on a strand of long curly hair, "it's that weekend is it?"

"I know you didn't forget Hermione," Ginny said, her eyes narrowing threateningly, "you never forget anything."

"I'm sorry Gin, your right I didn't forget, I just got distracted that's all." Hermione gestured helplessly to the piles of research and books that littered the table she was working at. "I thought maybe I could work in the morning and we could go shopping for costumes in the afternoon..."

"Oh honestly Hermione," Ginny huffed. "Schools barley begun and your already as buried in your NEWT research project as any other student in seventh year."

"Well," Hermione said flushing, "I happen to find my project extremely interesting, research isn't a chore for everyone you know."

"Oh never mind that now! If we leave it till the afternoon we'll miss out on the best costumes." Ginny cut in impatiently. "Pack it all away this instant and come with me, or I'll never forgive you." She added jokingly finally smiling at her friend.

Hermione sighed, conceding defeat in the wake of Ginny's determination, sometimes she wished she had a friend who understood her passion for learning. Not that she didn't love her friends for who they were it was just, sometimes it would be nice not to have _her_ interests dismissed so easily.

"Where are Harry and Ron?" She asked Ginny as she gathered her material.

"They've already gone on ahead, they sent me to look for you, I think the real reason is so they could avoid been dragged around with two girls looking for clothes." Ginny confided shaking her head with a smile.

"Probably," Hermione agreed, "wait here for a seconde while I go put these away." She said, hurrying off into the depths of the library before Ginny could protest.

She returned within a few minuets slightly out of breath, coming from the opposite direction from which she'd gone. This placed her directly behind Ginny, who didn't notice, still looking expectantly in the direction Hermione had disappeared.

"Er, Gin," she cleared her throat "ready to go?"

Ginny whirled around in surprise, her eyes bugging to find Hermione standing behind her, she did a double take, looking in the direction Hermione had disappeared then back at Hermione again.

"Where did you go?" Ginny asked with a puzzled frown. "How did you _do_ that?" She asked suspiciously, looking uncertainly over her shoulder again as if expecting a second Hermione to appear.

"Oh nowhere," Hermione replied vaguely. "Madam Pince just lets me store my things back there." She waved in the general direction from which she'd reappeared. "So," she flashed a smile, "let's get going to Hogsmeade."

* * *

Hermione and Ginny strolled together into Hogsmeade arm in arm; all of Ginny's suspicion was forgotten as she chatted excitedly about the Halloween Ball.

"It's such a good idea don't you think?" Ginny asked smiling. "I was so glad when Dumbledore approved the idea, it's about time us prefects organised something fun instead of just enforcing rules." Ginny had been made this year's fifth year female prefect; her male counterpart was, much to her distaste, Colin Creevy.

"It will be fun," Hermione agreed, "we haven't had anything like this since the Yule Ball in forth year." Hermione privately thought that this was because Balls sent everyone, fourth years up, into a state of near hysteria over who they were going with and what to wear.

Never the less she was looking forwards to finding the perfect costume, even she, despite what some people may think, enjoyed dressing up occasionally.

"And the themes fantastic," Ginny enthused. "Even though I think Cho's a right bitch after last year she did come up with a good idea."

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's true that Cho has proved herself to be...not very nice but..."

"Oh Hermione," Ginny interrupted giggling, "you know its true! And fancy going out with Draco Malfoy this year, he is such a slimy git, no mater how hot his gotten this year." Hermione's head whipped around to stare at Ginny in horror. Ginny didn't notice she was too entrenched in her rant.

"She just did it to get back at Harry!" Ginny scowled. "It was a good idea though," she continued thoughtfully. "Historical People or Characters, it's broad but not to broad." Ginny suddenly turned to look at Hermione slyly, "Has anyone asked you yet?"

Hermione started in surprise at the subject change and just as quickly flushed bright red; she knew what Ginny was really asking.

Had Ron asked her yet.

"I don't think his ever going to ask me." Hermione sighed suddenly feeling gloomy. It was ridiculous, who ever thought Hermione Granger would be moping about a boy, one of her best friends at that.

"That's not true Hermione!" Ginny encouraged. "I'm sure he will, it's the perfect opportunity, his liked you since fourth year, probably longer. He won't risk you going with someone else again." Ginny had wanted Ron and Hermione to get together longer than Hermione herself had wanted it.

So Hermione hated having to tell her what she had to tell her now, especially since it involved Harry.

"That's just it Gin, his made sure I wont be going with anyone else." Hermione looked miserably at the ground as she spoke. "His suggested that he, Harry and I all go together, as friends and Harry, the idiot, agreed of course." Hermione shot a quick look at her friends face, "I'm sorry Gin."

"My brothers the idiot." Ginny said flatly. "And what do have to be sorry for? I gave up waiting for Harry Potter to notice me a long time ago; I'm just sorry you have to be subjected to my brother's stupidity.

Hermione smiled wanly, she knew, even though Ginny wouldn't admit it, that she was disappointed that Harry wouldn't be asking her. In fact it didn't seem like Harry would be asking any girl out in the near future, ever since Cho had started going out with Malfoy he seemed to have decided that girls were not to be trusted, at least not in a romantic sense.

"Anyway," Ginny continued archly, "I already have a date."

"Really?" Hermione asked, this been the first she'd heard about it. "Who?"

"Roger Davis." Ginny said smugly, tossing her shining red hair over her shoulder.

"That's great Ginny." Hermione grinned, sometimes she envied the effortless way Ginny attracted, and went through, boys, but then again only sometimes.

* * *

Hermione carefully hung up the sealed dress bag that contained her costume for the Ball, it had taken most of the day but eventually she along with Ginny had managed to find costumes they were happy with.

A frown crossed her face as she flopped down onto her bed, she really, _really_, wasn't happy with this little arrangement of Ron's for the Ball. She could already imagine Malfoy's taunting words.

"Oh look, its potty, weasel and the mudblood, you're a _threesome_ now are you?" She muttered to herself imitating Malfoy's arrogant drawling voice. "Ug, why do Ron and Harry have to be such morons? They just never think!"

"Hermione? Are you talking to yourself again?" Lavender asked as she and Parvati walked into the room giggling. They plopped down onto the bed next to Hermione, one on either side, both scrutinising her intently. She squirmed, uncomfortably wondering what was on there minds this time.

"You know you really work yourself to hard." Parvati said.

"Yes." Lavender agreed. "You don't leave nearly enough time for the _important_ things in life."

"The important things?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Yes, you know like boys, makeup, the Ball, why I bet you haven't even decided how you're going to do your hair and makeup yet!" Parvati exclaimed.

"Um..."

"Yes! Which is why you're so lucky to have us!" Lavender grinned. "I mean you just have to realise Hermione that sometimes _real life_," Lavender continued placing an intense emphasis on the words 'real' and 'life', "is more important than..." she trailed off confused. "What's the name of your project again?"

"Ancient Runes and Magical Artefacts, with a particular focus on artefacts that depict runes whose origins date from Celtic times and whose function or purpose is uncertain or not understood today." Hermione replied starting to feel vaguely nervous and a little indignant.

"Yes exactly," Lavender agreed. "Which is why, Parvati and myself, have come to offer our service in regards to preparing you for the Ball."

Hermione blinked at the peculiar formal phrasing Lavender had used, and then glanced sideways at Parvati to see her nodding and smiling enthusiastically. Hermione's vaguely nervous feeling had suddenly progressed to that of feeling like a cornered animal.

"That's very nice of you two to offer but I'm sure you're both awfully busy yourselves, what with preparing for the Ball and..." Hermione trailed off much as Lavender had before, "have you two decided on a NEWT project yet?"

"Oh," Parvati waved a hand dismissively, "Lavender and I are doing a joint project on Divination, working with Professor Trelawney and Firenze." She giggled at the mention of the centaur. "But there's plenty of time to focus on that after the Ball, and Lavender and I absolutely insist on helping you get ready."

"Absolutely," Lavender agreed nodding her head. "Just because your been dragged to the Ball by your two moronic best friends doesn't mean you can't look great."

"So, show us your costume so we can start brainstorming hair and makeup ideas." Parvati demanded.

Hermione sighed in defeat and rose from her bed to fetch the costume bag she had so recently hung up. Lavender and Parvati eagerly bunched closer together on Hermione's bed as she opened the zip of the bag.

"Ohhh!" They both gasped as they peered into the bag, "Hermione it's beautiful," Lavender breathed with Parvati nodding in agreement.

"By the time we've finished with you, you'll look stunning for the Ball!"

"Yes, those boys you call friends won't know what hit them!"

"Catch you later Hermione!" They both called in unison as they hurried from the room already whispering and planning together.

Hermione watched them go with no small amount of trepidation, there was just no arguing with those two when they set there minds to something. And the Ball was still a whole week away! Hermione thought to herself in exasperation, it was official dances at Hogwarts drove everybody to complete distraction.

* * *

"Is it time?" asked a young male sounding voice.

"Not yet, soon, we must wait until the barriers are at their thinnest." A much older and more powerful sounding voice replied.

"Do you really think it will work, do you really think it is a woman who is the key?" The younger voice asked with a hint of incredulous disbelief in his voice.

"I am certain she is the key," the older voice replied. "As for whether we can prevent what is coming, that remains to be seen. We have to try however, or else all is lost."

"I don't understand, she is supposed to come back anyway, how will bringing her back early change anything? Would it not be more effective if I simply slew her?" The young voice asked impatiently.

"It is not for you to understand!" The old voice replied sharply, the power always present in his voice growing more potent. "If we bring her back on our own terms she will be on our side, she could be our most valuable ally. As for killing her? Have you no honour? She has yet to commit any crime, she is innocent. Besides we do not know the consequences ending her life prematurely could bring about."

"How can you be so certain she will be on our side?" The young voice asked in a more subdued tone of voice.

"The prophesy says, 'And she will not know him, or any of the people she meets in her travels, although she once knew there tales well.' She lives and was raised in the world order we are now in the process of creating. If she knows me she will follow my words and advise unquestionably. She will trust me implicitly before she even knows me." The older voice explained with satisfaction, "and she will distrust _them_ just as fiercely."

"And now? What do we do now?" The young voice asked eagerly.

"Now?" the older voice replied. "Now we wait. We wait until All Hallows Eve."

* * *

Well, there you have it, that's chapter one. Chapter two shall be out ASAP. So pretty please review and tell me what you think.

Thanks from the author, you can call me Mel.


	2. The Kidnapping

**Ripple**

**Title:** Ripple

**Disclaimer:** Refer to chapter one.

**Rating: **R

**Chapter Summery:** In which we learn a little bit more about Hermione's NEWT level project, the Ball arrives, and a kidnapping occurs...dum dum dum!

**Authors Notes:** Heres chapter two :) Thanks to my first reviewer Star-Angel23, I hope you like this chapter, maybe some of your questions will be answered.

**Chapter 2: The Kidnapping**

_The arrow of change will blaze into the past,  
__Into the Dark Prince's arms.  
__She will not know him or any she meets in her travels,  
__Though she one knew their tales well.  
_From the collected prophesies of,  
Morgana Le Fey

"Hermione," Harry called as Hermione descended the stairs from the girl's dormitories, waving from across the common room where he and Ron were sitting. Hermione shook her head at him as she hurried towards the portrait hole, it was the Thursday night before the Ball and probably the last chance she'd get to work on her research project, come Friday she just knew she wouldn't have a moments peace until the Ball was over.

"Not now Harry!" She called, "I'm going to the library to work on my project."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance as she disappeared through the portrait hall at a near run.

"Mental that one," Ron said rolling his eyes. "She's been acting really odd though," he said thoughtfully "ever since she started her project. I mean she does realise it's not even November yet right? And we have the better part of two years to work on the stupid things?"

"Well you know Hermione," Harry shrugged. "She's always been like that about schoolwork. I guess it makes sense that she'd be even crazier now she's working on a NEWT level project."

"Yeah, I guess," Ron agreed, "I don't know though, I mean something just seems a little off, even for Hermione. I haven't even decided if I'm going to focus on defence or magical creatures yet!"

"I know, we've even been told by the professors not to worry about the projects to much at this point beyond settling on a topic and writing up an outline on what we want to research." Harry agreed, then he shrugged, "Still its not like it's really out of character for Hermione to be focused," Harry snorted in sudden amusement, "I'm surprised she's not already studying for NEWTS."

"That's just it!" Ginny exclaimed, suddenly appearing in front of Harry and Ron, who shrank back warily and the decidedly demented look in her eyes.

"Er, hi Ginny," Harry said cautiously. "You feeling okay?"

Ginny sat down on a chair and dragged it close to the couch they were sitting on, leaning forwards eyes shifting suspiciously from side to side, as if to ensure that nobody was listening.

"It's been bothering me since last week, I mean it just didn't make any sense, it's not possible, she's said so herself a thousand times..."

"Ginny!" Harry cut in after sharing confused glances with Ron. "What doesn't make any sense? What's been bothering you? What exactly is it you're talking about again?"

"What Hermione has been doing in the library of course." Ginny said while looking at him as if he was been particularly dense.

"Uh studying?" Her brother suggested sarcastically looking at her as if she'd completely lost it.

"That's just it. You said it yourselves, she's not studying!" Ginny exclaimed triumphantly. She looked excitedly between the two of them, her shoulders slumping when all they did was exchange more confused glances.

"Um Gin maybe you should go lie down." Harry suggested gently.

"I don't need to lie down you idiot." Ginny said, looking extremely annoyed. Honestly boys! They had to have everything spelt out for them.

"Hey," Ron said, starting to become irritated with his little sister. "You can't talk to Harry like that! It's not our fault you aren't making any sense."

Ginny sighed while rolling her eyes in exasperation; she then began to explain things to them very slowly, as if speaking to small children or else someone not very bright.

"Last week when I went looking for Hermione in the library, she disappeared, to put her books somewhere..."

"That's not so strange," Ron cut in. "Hermione must know that library better than almost anyone, I don't see what's so intere...offf!" Ron was cut off as Harry elbowed him in the gut, not liking the colour of red Ginny's face was slowly turning in rage at been interrupted.

"I wasn't finished," Ginny hissed. "Anyway as I was saying," She shot a death glare at Ron, "She couldn't have been gone for more than a few moments when she tapped me on the shoulder, and somehow she had appeared right behind me."

"Weird," Ron commented as Harry sat nodding beside him, privately Harry wondered if Hermione had started using a time-turner again. "Maybe," Ron said thoughtfully, "maybe she's learnt to apparate early and is testing it out." He finished excitedly.

"No, no, no," Ginny said shaking her head frantically. "How many times has she told us herself that it's impossible to apparate on Hogwarts grounds? Its been bugging me all week and I've been trying to decide if Hermione is doing anything else out of character, I couldn't think of anything, that is until Harry made that joke about NEWTS."

"Oh, come on Ginny," Ron snorted. "Even Hermione's not that bad, it's not like she can revise, we haven't learnt anything to revise for yet!"

"That's just it," Ginny said. "She may not be revising, but she'd normally be studying the syllabuses and reading NEWT preparation books like mad."

"That's true Ron," Harry said frowning. "Hermione _would_ usually be doing that; she'd be working on her project as well but not in exclusion to everything else."

"Well what exactly is it you think she's doing then?" Ron asked looking confused.

"I don't know, but whatever it is," Ginny said grimly. "It's in the library." With that portentous statement Ginny stood up and walked to the stairs leading to the girl's dormitories, leaving Harry and Ron sitting in silence on the couch behind her.

"I think she's cracked." Ron said, breaking the silence when he was sure his sister was out of earshot.

"Yeah," Harry agreed "She was acting a little strange."

"What does she think Hermione's doing in the library? Plotting to take over Hogwarts using an army of books?" Ron snorted and both boys laughed. "I haven't seen her act this paranoid since Fred and George charmed her shadow to play tricks on her!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione happily sat in the small secret room within the library that Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pince had shown her, and as the room could only be accessed using a keyed wand, Hermione had been given the great honour of having _her_ wand keyed to the entrance so she could use the room any time she liked.

The room held Hogwarts collection of ancient magical artefacts, such items, been both incredibly powerful and little understood, were only held in the most secure locations in the magical world. Hogwarts was one of those locations, and held twelve of Britain's collection of ancient magical artefacts.

No place was permitted to hold more than twelve of such items for security reasons, such items of power containing ancient magic's could be dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands. Which was why they were hidden and locked in this secret room, it was a secret room even by Hogwarts standards, it was not mentioned in Hogwarts a History nor did it appear on the marauders map.

Along with the magical artefacts, which sat on various heavily warded stands around the room, was all the information ever collected or written about the artefacts. No mention of the items would be found anywhere outside the room, and if by chance it was the information would _immediately_ be relocated so it was in the room.

The remainder of the room was set up like a comfortable study, one such as you'd find in any richly appointed home. There was a blazing fire place, a large comfortable desk, and many lamps in order to provide adequate light and a comfortable couch if one wanted to read relaxed. The only thing the room lacked was any visible exists. To leave the room you had to tap your wand in _exactly_ the right place and even then it would only work if your wand was keyed to the room.

Hermione had been absolutely thrilled when Dumbledore had allowed her to use the room for her NEWT level research project, she had been a little worried about her choice of project. As while in her reading she had frequently stumbled across the theoretical mention of such items of power, she had never read or heard about and specific examples.

It was when she had approached Professor Dumbledore with these concerns that he had, with a twinkle in his eye, taken her down to the library and revealed one of Hogwarts most secret and most private collections. Hermione still vividly recalled the conversation she had had with Professor Dumbledore that day.

:_Flashback_:

"But why?" Hermione asked after recovering from her shock and wonder. "Why is the very existence of these artefacts kept so quiet? They should be in museums! We should be learning about them in classes, why, they are the Magical World's heritage."

"Indeed they are my dear," Professor Dumbledore agreed gently. "Unfortunately, it is not that simple. To keep items such as this in the public eye is far too dangerous. They come from time and are created from a type of magic that is lost to us today. And many such items, it has to be said, very much have a mind of their own. They are all that remains of a forgotten world."

"But why? Why do we know so little about the time they come from? They're old yes, but not so old that we should know almost nothing certain about them, why that one over there says it dates from approximately 350AD."

"We know very little about our magical history in Britain before that point, in many ways our magical history dates from the time of Merlin, which is why he is such an important figure in out culture. The time of Merlin was a time of great upheaval, for both muggle and magical worlds. Empires were lost and formed, Christianity was sweeping the earth obliterating the old gods and old ways in its path. Indeed it was in Merlin's time that the magical society we live in today was formed."

Hermione listened to the headmaster speak with rapt fascination; it was, she reflected, the longest most comprehensible speech she had ever heard him make. He was revealing information, about the world Hermione had found herself thrust into at the age of eleven, which she had always wanted to know.

"Headmaster," she asked eagerly when he paused in his explanation. "Why aren't we taught this information about the magical world in History of Magic, from what your saying Merlin's time is vital to the history of our society?"

"Alas my dear, it is again not that simple. Our history beyond Merlin's time is deliberately kept shrouded in secrecy. The average witch or wizard knows nothing of Merlin other than that he was great Wizard who devised many of the spells and potions we use today. They assume that the society we live in has been around for far longer."

"I don't understand." Hermione confessed and briefly amused herself with the flabbergasted looks on her friends' faces if they had heard her make such a pronouncement.

"A number of reasons have been given my dear, in the great many debates there have been on the subject. It has always, however, in the end been decided that, what is that muggle saying? Ah yes, that 'ignorance is bliss'. The knowledge that has been lost to the past is both dangerous and shell we say rather controversial."

The headmaster began to wonder about the room, stopping to peer at the various artefacts on display. He paused at the one Hermione had previously indicated, a beautifully constructed Celtic torque.

"You see Hermione," Professor Dumbledore said not turning from his perusal of the torque. "The magical and muggle worlds were not always so separate. The separation began in Merlin's time and was encouraged by events such as the witch burnings muggle Christians were so found of. I believe that before, and to an extent, _during_ Merlin's time, the magical and muggle worlds coexisted quite harmoniously."

"I see what you mean by controversial sir." Hermione said quietly, trying to picture the look on Malfoy's face if anyone tried to tell him that his ancestors had once 'coexisted' with muggles peacefully. Even Ron and his family, who were about the most tolerant example of the magical community when it came to muggles, would find what Professor Dumbledore was saying hard to believe.

"So you will also understand why everything you see and learn in this room must be kept strictly to yourself." He finally turned from his study of the torque and regarded her sternly from over his half-moon spectacles. "The magical world is not ready to hear of its past, and I am sure you can appreciate how dangerous it would be if any of these objects fell into the wrong hands."

"Yes sir, you can trust me." Hermione said firmly.

"I know I can my dear, I look forward to reading your finished project, I'm sure it will be fascinating."  
:_End Flashback_:

That had been over a month ago now, a couple of weeks after the beginning of school, let it never be said that Hermione Granger wasted time when it came to preparing for a major project!

The room had proven just as fascinating as Hermione had thought, it was amazing the amount of thought and research that had gone into investigating these items of power and new things were always been discovered or theorized about them.

Hermione now understood the headmasters somewhat cryptic comment about the artefacts having minds of their own. At first she had assumed he was exaggerating perhaps using it as another example of their extreme power, a warning that if anyone attempted to use them they would find the power beyond their control.

Early on in her study of the material stored it the room she came to realise that Professor Dumbledore was been quiet literal. Unlike enchanted items found in modern times which had simply had spells _placed_ on them, the items of power _were_ magical in their own right.

They were all items of power equivalent to that of The Staff of Merlin, which Hermione learned, to her great disappointment, had never been recovered. The knowledge needed to create such items of power was long lost; the only thing that was known for certain about the process was that magic was involved in every single step.

Anyone with even a hint of magic in their blood could sense the aura of power surrounding all the artefacts; it could be distinctly felt even through the heavy wards that surrounded them. Hermione couldn't even imagine how overwhelming that aura would be without any wards in place.

Oddly enough, because _all_ the artefacts were extremely interesting, Hermione had decided on a favourite from the minuet she had first walked into the room, the torque she had initially pointed out to Dumbledore.

It had become the focus of her intense research; it was delicate, leading Hermione to quickly decide that it was intended for a woman, a theory supported in many of the sources she had already read about it. There were also theories that it was one of a pair, the second torque intended for a male. It was silver twined into intricate Celtic knots and every single surface that she could see was covered in tiny runic inscriptions. Small different coloured jewels winked from various places among the knots. It was the most beautiful thing Hermione had ever seen.

Hermione knew, deep down, that there was something not quite right about her fascination with the torque, it went beyond scholarly interest and bordered almost on obsession. She thought about it all the time, hell she was pretty sure it had been in her _dreams_ last night.

It made her think about Professor Dumbledore's comment about the items of power having minds of their own. Was the torque exerting some strange influence on her? She was afraid to tell the headmaster about her suspicions in case he stopped her from returning to the room.

She was strong enough to resist whatever lure the torque had for her, heavily warded as it was it could hardly exert any truly _overpowering_ compulsion within her. She would just have to be more careful about sneaking away to research, her friends were becoming suspicious especially Ginny and it wasn't like she could tell them where she was going all the time.

But for now she had a whole evening to focus on the beautiful torque, she intended to stay in the room until just before curfew; maybe she would discover a reason for the strange lure the torque seemed to hold for her. With that thought in mind Hermione wandered over to the section of shelves around the torque scanning the books, looking for her next source to focus on.

* * *

"Hermione!" Lavender and Parvati chimed in creepy unison. Hermione stiffened in dread and turned to face her two roommates. The girls were armed with an assortment of brushes, hair products, books detailing cosmetic charms, clips, ribbons and who knows what else.

It was the Friday afternoon of the Ball and Hermione's time of reckoning had come, why had she agreed to let Lavender and Parvati do her hair and makeup again? Oh yes, that's right, she hadn't been given a choice.

"We thought we'd get you ready before we did ourselves." Parvati said, smiling like a kid who'd been let loose in a candy store.

"Yes," Lavender agreed. "We're pretty much ready anyway; we couldn't wait, so we started doing our hair and later our makeup just after breakfast. All we have to do is change into our costumes."

"Which, means we have even more time to focus on you!" Parvati squealed. "Isn't that exciting Hermione."

"Positively thrilling." Hermione drawled, and then kicked herself for sounding even the slightest bit like Malfoy. Drawling, really, she must be even more anxious about letting Lavender and Parvati have free reign on her person than she thought. Next thing she knew she'd be sneering and threatening to 'tell her father about this!'

"Don't be silly Hermione," Lavender chided causing Hermione to start and wonder when Lavender had developed the ability to read minds. "We promise to have you looking beautiful, we won't do anything you don't like, we've been sharing a dorm with you for six years now, and we _do_ have some idea of what you like. Now go and have a shower and wash your hair with this and don't do _anything_ else." She shoved Hermione in the direction of the bathroom while Hermione sighed internally in relief; of course Lavender couldn't read minds! But she really needed to stop thinking about Malfoy so much, even if it only _was_ insultingly.

It seemed that ever since she had started sixth year all any girl could talk about was Malfoy. About how _handsome_ he'd become and how he'd changed and was _charming_ now and could you believe he was going out with _Cho_? While Hermione could personally see no difference in the little ferret, other than the fact he wasn't so little now due to his growth spurt, it was hard to _not_ think about him when everyone was mentioning him to her every two seconds.

Sure enough, as Hermione emerged from the bathroom in a robe with dripping wet hair, she caught Parvati and Lavender discussing, who else, Malfoy.

"I still can't believe how _gorgeous_ Malfoy's turned out to be." Lavender gushed. "I mean who would have thought that that spoiled rich prat would grow up looking so nice, he looks like a real life _angel_."

"Yeah Lucifer." Hermione muttered to herself, which went unheard as the girls had yet to notice her, to busy gushing about Malfoy.

"I know," Parvati agreed. "I still can't believe he's going out with Cho Chang, I almost feel sorry for her, I mean _everyone_ knows that he's only going out with her to get back at Harry. Also I hear she puts out and you know how promiscuous Slytherin's are."

"Ewww," Hermione cut in. "Enough about Malfoy's sex life please!"

"Oh, Hermione," Lavender said turning to face her. "You're out, good, sit down and we shell begin!" She gestured to the chair in front of the small dressing table the dorm contained, Hermione noticed with no small amount of trepidation that the chair was facing away from the mirror.

"Now we've found the perfect charm and potion combo for your hair." Pavarti said imperiously while smearing liberal amounts of gloop through Hermione's wet hair. The words 'charm and potion combo' did nothing to reassure Hermione.

"Are you sure it's safe to combine a charm and a potion?" She asked as Parvati continued to smear gloop through her hair and Lavender muttered over a copy of Witch Weekly while practising wand movements.

"Oh sure," Parvati said nonchalantly. "My cousin, who has hair a bit like yours, swears by it and Witch weekly approved the combination in their article 'Combinations: Fact and Fiction – Stories of Success and Tragedy.'"

"Just relax Hermione; we know what we're doing. Now time for the charm," Lavender stepped forwards with her wand raised as Parvati stepped aside, apparently finished with the gloop.

One incantation later and Hermione felt the gloop on her head sink in and the hair on her scalp shift and start to rearrange itself along with a sensation of heat. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a lock of hair lengthen as the usual bush and frizz was taken out of it and then spring back into a smooth, gently flowing and _shiny_ loose curl.

"Oh," Parvati breathed. "That looks even better than I thought it would, you really should consider having your hair like this all the time Hermione." Lavender was looking smug and nodding in agreement.

Hermione twisted around in her seat and looked at her reflection in the mirror, the girl who looked back had not one hint of frizz on her entire head. Her long chestnut brown hair that normally bushed up and went every which way was tamed into long loose gentle spiral curls. And they were so _shiny_ and _smooth_; her hair was also a good couple of inches longer with all the bush and frizz taken out of it.

"Oh, yes dear, that is such an improvement." The mirror said, "Much better than that dreadful mess you had on your head before." Hermione scowled at the enchanted mirror brought back to earth from admiring herself.

"Now we'll do your makeup before we style your hair I think." Lavender said thoughtfully. "Don't worry, we know, not too much! Besides with your costume it will look much more authentic with minimal makeup. We'll have you ready in no time!"

* * *

"Where is that girl?" Ron grumbled to Harry shifting uncomfortably in his Druid costume. "She's taking forever!" Harry knew Ron had picked the Druid costume to impress Hermione, to show he paid attention to her interest in Ancient runes and magical artefacts. Harry questioned, not for the first time, wether he'd made the right decision by agreeing with Ron's plan for the three of them to go as friends. Maybe he should have tried harder to persuade Ron to just ask Hermione to the Ball himself.

Harry shifted uncomfortably himself, although by rights he should have felt right at home, in his costume of the first Quidditch player. He had given in so easily to Ron's idea because he didn't want to have to go through the trouble of finding himself a date, ever since the whole Cho thing and the Cho and Malfoy thing he'd found in difficult to trust girls when it came to anything romantic.

"I'm sure she'll be down soon, remember Lavender and Parvati were helping her get ready so they're probably taking their time." Harry reminded his agitated friend.

"That's right," Ron grunted. "Hope they don't do anything two horrible to her."

"I'm sure she'll look fine..." Harry started to say but was cut of by his friends shocked gasp as he looked towards the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Harry turned to see what had caught his friends' attention and was arrested by the sight of Hermione descending the stairs.

Parvati and Lavender came with her giggling and brushed past the stunned figures of Harry and Ron.

"See you down there Hermione." They called in unison, "We have to go meet our dates." They hurried out of the portrait hole giggling all the way.

Hermione was left standing in front of her two speechless friends; Harry could hardly take his eyes off her and could hardly even imagine how Ron must be feeling. Their bookish best friend was wearing a pre-medieval style gown in various shades of green, it was almost but not quite floor length revealing what looked like green velvet riding boots underneath. The dress had long tight sleeves the ends edged in silvery green lace, the long skirt was artfully slashed in places revealing a lighter green underskirt, and the bodice was low cut revealing a generous amount of cleavage that was emphasised by enchanted costume jewellery that was charmed to resemble a large emerald pendant.

Her hair, miraculously free of frizz, was drawn half back by what appeared to be a simple headdress a knotted silver band with a small emerald at its centre was across her forehead, this disappeared into her hair that was held up with clips fashioned to resemble jewelled leaves. The costume was finished off a dark, almost black, green riding cloak that nearly swept the ground at Hermione's feet.

"Wow, Hermione," Harry said awed. "You look absolutely brilliant, you put our costumes to shame."

"Thanks Harry." Hermione said, blushing uncharacteristically, she then looked at Ron shyly from beneath her eyelashes. "What do you think Ron?" She asked hopefully.

"I think you look like your trying to become some bloody honorary member of Slytherin! That's what I think!" Ron's face had gone very red in what Harry had at first thought was embarrassed appreciation but now recognised as anger. Though _why_ his hot tempered friend was angry Harry couldn't begin to imagine.

Hermione looked shocked and not a little hurt by Ron's accusation, it didn't take long, however, for her eyes to narrow in anger and her temper flare up, as it always did, to match Ron's.

"Oh don't be ridiculous Ronald. Do you really expect me to avoid the colours green and silver for the rest of my life just because they're Slytherin's house colours?"

"Well you could at least try to look a little less like one of Malfoy's groupies while we're at school." Ron hissed back and Harry suddenly understood, Ron was jealous; Hermione looked so good that he was afraid of all the other guys that would notice her tonight. The green and silver had just reminded him of Malfoy, and the sickening wave of Draco Malfoy mania that had swept the schools female population ever since school had started this year.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "What does that ferret have to do with anything?" Thankfully Hermione seemed to remain as unaffected when it came to Draco Malfoy as ever.

"Where are you even keeping your wand?" Ron asked ignoring the question. "If anything happens you'd be defenceless!"

Hermione jerked up something that was hanging from the chain connected to the silver girdle that was cinched around her waist that Harry hadn't noticed before. It was a long velvet green sheath that seemed to contain her wand.

"I have got my wand!" Hermione said in a dangerously quiet voice. "I am not staying to listen to this a moment longer, I am going to the Ball and frankly I don't care whether you join me or not." She turned away from them and swept out through the portrait hole, leaving Harry and Ron standing together in silence.

"I really messed up this time didn't I?" Ron asked Harry miserably.

"Yeah," Harry agreed then noticing the downcast look on his friends face said, "But I'm sure she'll forgive you if you apologise, come on lets go down to the Ball and find her."

* * *

"It is time." Said the old and powerful voice, "I shell send you through the portal, you must fetch her and return through the portal as soon as possible, the less time you are there the better. When you have returned with her through the portal travel with her to my citadel I will meet you there."

"Why can you not wait for me here, I thought you said she would be close to the gateway?" The younger more impatient voice demanded.

"Time flows differently on either side of the portal, she is after all from many years in the future, an hour there will be several days here and as you know I do not have that time to waste. Your escort of men will stay and await your return, and then escort you on your journey to me; it is far too dangerous a place for a single man and woman to travel alone."

"Never fear great sorcerer, I shell not fail you!" The young man said with a flash of white teeth.

"I know you will not Gawain, I want her unharmed lad do you understand me." The old man said sternly causing the grin the young knight was wearing to falter and be replaced with a sullen frown. "I shell know Gawain! Do not disobey me on this; it is important that she remain whole until we know more. Now step into the centre of the standing stones and I shell send you on your way. Do you have the amulet?"

"Yes." Was the sullen reply, as Gawain lifted the softly glowing pendent for the old man to see.

"Good, now all you have to do in order to return is to stand in the centre of the stones on the other side of the portal with the girl and repeat the incantation I taught you. It will bring you back and bring the spell in a full circle neatly closing the portal. None will be able to follow."

The old man herded Gawain into the centre of the standing stones, before fixing him with a powerful stare; "Is their anything else you need to know my friend? For we can not speak once I begin the spell."

"Nothing Merlin, all shell go according to plan. I shell have the girl within my hands within the hour and you shell have her within the week." He laughed earlier good humour restored.

Merlin smiled at the young knight, he knew he would succeed in his mission, with that the sorcerer planted his staff of power in the earth and began to draw upon the magic he would need to complete the spell that would transport the young knight through time. And more importantly, bring him back again, along with his precious cargo.

* * *

Hermione stormed through the halls towards the Ball furious, how dare he? She fumed, what was his problem anyway? Hermione still didn't even understand where the whole argument had even come from.

She was at the entrance hall now and she paused at the foot of the stairs, she could hear music and laughter coming from the entrance to the great hall which had its doors slightly ajar. She didn't feel quite up to going in there just yet, so she moved over to the great doors leading outside, which were also slightly ajar, for a breath of fresh air.

Ron made her so mad sometimes, why couldn't he just admit that they both had feelings for each other? Was the thought of been in a relationship with her really so repulsive? Suddenly Hermione was startled from her thoughts as she heard footsteps approaching from behind her, turning around she was surprised to see Ron without Harry approaching her.

"Ron?" She asked surprised, maybe he was coming to apologise. It was then through her confusion that she began to notice things about the person approaching her that didn't make sense. Hadn't Ron been wearing a Druids costume? The redhead approaching her was dressed like an ancient soldier wearing leather mail, why he was even carrying a sword.

Did he change? Hermione wondered in further confusion, it was then that she noticed that rather than coming from the direction of the staircase as he _should_ have been Ron was approaching from the direction of the dungeons.

It was only when he was a few metres away, that Hermione noticed certain physical differences, and began to seriously consider the possibility that the person approaching her _wasn't_ Ron.

And by then it was too late.

The stranger and he _was_ a stranger lunged for her, muffling the scream that started to come from her throat with a large rough hand. The he grabbed her wand, ripping it from the chain on her girdle; he stashed it on his person, somewhere out of her reach. The stranger with the incredible resemblance to Ron started dragging her towards the steps leading to the dungeon.

Hermione started to struggle fiercely in his hold, adrenalin starting to pump frantically through her veins. It didn't make a bit of a difference the man holding her was _strong_ far stronger and bulkier than Ron.

"Hermione!" She heard her name shouted in panic, she twisted in her attackers grasp to see her two best friends frantically racing down the stairs towards her while drawing their wands. It was too late for them to fire off any hexes though as her attacker had already pulled her down the steps to the dungeons and started dragging her down a corridor.

Hermione began struggling even more strongly, if she could just delay her attacker long enough for Harry and Ron to reach her! Her attacker stopped abruptly to struggle with her writhing body and threw her against a wall while keeping hold of her arm.

"Be still woman!" He roared in her face. Hermione ignored his command and tried to kick him where it would hurt, hampered by her long skirts. He swore again as he dodged her clumsy attack, then he drew back his arm and viciously backhanded her across the face.

Hermione saw stars, and distantly felt her body slump against the wall, her attacker immediately began hustling her now placid body down the corridor again. I'm in shock a distant part of Hermione observed, the part not occupied with the pulsing waves of agony radiating from her left cheek.

The rest of the confusing journey through the dungeons passed in a blur for Hermione as she struggled to remain conscious. Hermione's attacker pulled them both to an abrupt stop facing a blank section of wall, he held up a glowing amulet and a section of wall slid aside.

He quickly dragged her through the opening just as Hermione weakly started struggling again, the room he had dragged her into was round but that wasn't what caught Hermione's attention and caused her to go limp again. The room contained a circle of standing stones glowing with a faint luminescence, standing stones buried in the very bowels of Hogwarts.

Her attacker hauled her into the centre of the stones and Hermione started struggling again, she didn't know what was happening but she knew it was _bad_. Standing stones were only used in the ancient forgotten magic's and, if Hermione was sure of one thing at that moment, it was that she didn't want to trapped in the centre of one with a lunatic.

"Hermione!" She heard shouted again and looked up to see Harry and Ron framed in the opening to the strange room. Ron raised his wand and fired a hex at her attacker through the stones. The hex was repelled in an arch of blue light that leapt from the stones; Ron was thrown backwards against the wall and slumped, unconscious, to the ground.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed desperately lunging towards his crumpled body only to be harshly hauled back by her attacker. Her attacker tightly holding the amulet began to chant in a strange tongue and luminescence that surrounded the stones brightened to dancing blue flames.

Hermione helplessly maintained eye-contact with Harry through the blue fire as the chanting reached its crescendo, his green eyes were wide and frantic and angry at his how helpless he was to help her.

Suddenly the blue fire leapt in towards the centre of the circle, right at Hermione and her attacker. Hermione screamed as her world was bathed in blue. She felt like her body was seared away and her consciousness was left floating in blue fire. So this is what it is like to die she thought vaguely.

Slowly the blue fire faded away and Hermione became aware of her body again, she was still standing in the centre of the standing stones, still held cruelly by her attacker. But she was no longer at Hogwarts.

She was out in the open; no sign of human habitation was in sight although she could see a lake that looked almost exactly like the one at Hogwarts. The sun was gently breaching the horizon bathing everything in early morning light.

Hermione was reminded of her attacker when he jerked her back against his body and cruelly pried her mouth open, forcing her to swallow some foul tasting potion.

"Time for a nap." She heard him sneer as the potion took effect and everything faded to black and she knew no more.

* * *

AN: Okay that was chapter two, I hope you liked it, sorry about the cliff hanger. Just in case it wasn't clear with the Merlin reference, Hermione has been taken to the past, to the time of Merlin.  
Please, Please, PLAESE! Review, I'll love you forever. Next chapter ASAP.


	3. A Rude Awakening

**Title:** Ripple

**Disclaimer:** Refer to chapter one.

**Rating: **R

**Chapter Summery:** In which Hermione is rudely awaken, finds out a little bit more about her situation and :drum roll: meets the 'Dark Prince'.

**Authors Notes:**

I will differentiate between THE PAST (which is where Hermione is) and THE PRESENT (normal Hogwarts time) using caps at the beginning of paragraphs where a change has occurred.

Heres chapter three! The next chapter will come out sooner, I promise. I was in the middle of exams and have been distracted by study and such. I am now finished with exams and uni for a whole three months so expect weekly updates from now on! Many thanks to the people who reviewed I hope you're still reading and interested.

**Chapter 3: A Rude Awakening**

_Change is coming,  
__Through the passageways of time.  
__The missing piece has been found,  
__Her presence required.  
_From the collected prophesies of,  
Morgana Le Fey

THE PAST

Hermione's first hint that she was not waking up in her familiar dorm room wrapped up in her warm bed sheets, was the pain in her stomach and the constant rough jostling motion. Her bed did not, most emphatically not in fact, trot. Nor did she sleep slung face down over it like a sack of potatoes. It was also a good deal wider.

Her second clue that all was not right in the world was the sound of two rough male voices talking over her head and the sound of more murmuring in the background. The throbbing swollen mess the left side of her face seemed to be wasn't exactly normal either. Oh, her hands and feet were also bound with course feeling rope. Hermione began to slowly register what the voices above her were saying.

"…the potion the old sorcerer gave me, besides knocking the bitch out that is," here both voices broke into harsh guffaws. "Is supposed to make it so she can understand what we're saying, that and speak like a civilised human being."

"Do they really speak so barbarically where she is from?" The second voice inquired, Hermione made a conscious effort to make it seem as if she was still unconscious as she felt the owner of the voice peer at her intently. She had no desire to face the owners of those rough voices just yet, especially because she had identified the voice of the first speaker, it was the man who had both kidnapped her and struck her across the face. The man who shared such a disturbing resemblance to Ron, so much so that she had initially mistaken him _for_ Ron, more so even than any of his brothers.

"Oh, yes," the first voice, Hermione's initial attacker, assured his companion. "Could barely understand a word the lot of them were saying. "Thankfully Gwill, not a great deal of speech is required when abducting a single woman."

"But you were gone for a good three days!" Gwill exclaimed. What sort of a name was Gwill? Hermione privately wondered a growing anxiety about just how far from home she really was forming in her belly.

"Yes," Hermione's attacker replied a smug boasting tone entering his voice. "The old sorcerer informed me that time flows differently on either side of the portal. It took me no more than a few hours to accomplish my task. I hardly know why she is so important to the old man, she was so easy to capture and after all she is just a woman."

Just a woman! Hermione fumed silently, why they were talking like complete barbarians, you'd think that women had never been liberated and they were all still living in the eighteen hundreds! Unless that was exactly where, or rather _when_, the mysterious portal, which Hermione assumed to be the stone circle, had taken her to. After all that horrible man that looked like Ron was talking about how time flowed differently on either side of the portal.

"Maybe," Gwill's voice said slowly, as if it required a great deal of effort to think. "Maybe Gawain she's not _just_ a woman maybe she's powerful, like," here his voice lowered as if he was afraid to say the name too loudly, "the _Dark Witch._"

Hermione's anxiety increased, not only had she been kidnapped and taken far from home she was possibly, as she was increasingly beginning to suspect, not even in her own time anymore. The place she found herself, it seemed, had a Dark Witch on the loose and the people who had kidnapped her were apparently supposed to be the good guys. The good guys who it seemed thought she was in some way connected or like this Dark Witch.

Hermione's attacker, _Gawain_ she corrected herself, scoffed at Gwill's suggestion and laughed.

"Nay, never would someone of the evil witch's power be taken so easily nor," here Hermione felt his fingers tangle through her hair as he jerked her head up, "remain unconscious for so long." Hermione could not suppress a pained gasp at his actions and her eyes involuntarily flew open.

"My lord," apparently among company Gawain was to be shown greater respect. "She is awake!" Hermione was wondering, threw the waves of pain radiating from the rough grip on her hair, how such a brute, as Gawain appeared to be, could be a lord. Her neck was twisted to an even more painful angle as _his lordship_ jerked her head around so he could peer into her face.

"Ah, so she is, did you enjoy your rest _my Lady_?" He asked placing heavy sarcasm on the last two words. Hermione didn't answer, struck dumb yet again by his astonishing resemblance to Ron. At the moment, however, she was in no danger of taking him from her warm hearted friend, never, not even in one of his frequent fits of temper, had their ever been such a look of cruelty upon Ron's face.

Now that she had the benefit of her vision restored to her Hermione took the chance to observe her surroundings, as much as she could from precarious position. That position of been slung, bound hand and foot over a horse Gawain's horse to be exact, the whole horse bit more than explained the trotting. That it was Gawain's horse which he two was occupying explained his easy access to her hair, as she was slung, indeed very much like a sack of potatoes, in front of him.

"Seems that she's lost her voice," Gwill's cruelly amused voice declared. "No great loss, I've always said that a silent woman is the best kind of woman there is to have." Hermione shivered in apprehension as she twisted to see Gwill leering at her vulnerable body unpleasantly.

Gawain joined his friend in repugnant laughter and Hermione flinched as he jerked her head even further back, before releasing her abruptly. Hermione let her head fall back down limply, the beginnings of a plan beginning to form in her mind. Her greatest advantage at the moment would be to play upon her captors assumptions, she needed to seem as frightened and meek as possible, her captors obviously had little regard for women, and her only hope lay in them underestimating her.

That is if they didn't rape her first.

"Not possible," Gawain said all traces of laughter gone from his voice, "the sorcerer specifically ordered that she was not to be touched. Something about her remaining _whole_, at least until he knows more about her."

Hermione felt a surge of disproportionate gratitude towards this mysterious sorcerer who had, at least until he knew more about her, saved her from that particular fate. Of course he was also the one who had arranged for her kidnapping in the first place.

Gwill's face dropped in disappointment at his leaders command, and Hermione was relieved to notice that he, unlike Gawain, did not share any disconcerting resemblance to someone she cared about from home. She didn't think she could handle it if her tormentors consisted of a Harry doppelganger as well as the already present Ron doppelganger.

"Send a scout out to find a suitable location to spend the night." Gawain ordered, "The sun will be setting in a few candle marks." Gwill broke from his place riding alongside Gawain to relay his orders to the band of men travelling behind them.

"Wench," Gawain nudged her prone form with his knee. "Why do you not speak? Do you not wish to know where you are? Or rather" and here his voice turned sly, "_when_ you are?" He chuckled and then fell silent, obviously expecting some reaction on Hermione's part.

Hermione remained silent, her suspicions about been lost in time confirmed; she had to stick to her plan of seeming as harmless and weak as possible which meant _not_ rising to the bait. Besides if she remained silent perhaps he would get cocky and reveal more about her current situation, such as how far back in time she actually was.

Gawain, however, it seemed was not content to let her remain silent and nudged her again, far more violently, with his knee. Hermione breath rushed out of her with a whoosh as the blow winded her she reflected, as she struggled to draw breath that she was sure to have yet another bruise to add to her growing collection. She forced herself to whimper in fear and curl in on herself as much as she could, while her Gryffindor nature despised showing such weakness to the enemy, it was not hard to fake her fear as she was terrified, some dubious protection from an absent sorcerer not enough to ease her fears.

Thankfully this response seemed to satisfy Gawain and with a grunt of disgust and mutterings about 'weak females' he stopped bothering her.

* * *

Hermione sat watching the camp fire, warm orange flames flickering, keeping the surrounding darkness at bay. She tuned out the loud rancorous talk of the men surrounding her as they ate and drank and turned her thoughts to what was happening back home. Was Ron okay? She winced as she recalled her last sight of his limp still body against the wall. 

She had been unconscious for nearly a whole day as near as she could guess, her captors certainly weren't forthcoming with details, and she remembered the sun rising just before Gawain had forced that vile potion down her throat.

Hermione wondered if her friends had gone to Dumbledore to let him know what had happened and if, even now, the great wizard was devising some plan to come to her rescue. Although from what Gawain had said about the differences in time flow on either side of the portal she would be lucky if Harry had even succeeded in reviving Ron yet.

Even if they had managed to make it to the Professor was their really anything that could be done to help her? Professor Dumbledore was unquestionably a great wizard but he was not all powerful. They would have no idea where or _when_ she had been taken unless there was some way to tell from analysing the magical residue left on the standing stones.

"Wench," Gawain suddenly exclaimed from his position at her side. "I have decided," he declared waving the arm holding his drinking flask and grinning at her with flushed cheeks. "To tell you the reason you have been brought here."

"Er… thank you my Lord." Hermione said hesitantly when it became apparent that Gawain expected some sort of response. She concentrated very hard upon remaining still and not cringing away from his alcohol laden breath and leering face as he lent towards her.

"You have been brought back into the past by the Great Sorcerer Merlin!" He proclaimed dramatically, and then he sat back eagerly to watch her reaction. Hermione's eyes widened, then her brow furrowed as she frantically thought over the consequences of this revelation, finally she gave her much anticipated result.

"Who?" She asked, completely bewildered.

Gawain's smug anticipation immediately transformed to stunned disbelief as his eyes frantically searched her face for any sign of deceit. Hermione flinched backwards in shock as he abruptly leapt to his feet cursing, viscously throwing his flask into the fire.

"You are lying!" He accused her swinging around to face her, glaring furiously. "He assured me you would know him! He is famous in your time; I heard several of your people refer to him while I was there!"

"I think I would have heard of him if he were so well known." Hermione retorted before thinking, her scholarly sensibilities offended, she most certainly would have at least _heard_ of this mysterious wizard if her classmates were referring to him in everyday speech.

"Silence!!" He roared, taking a threatening step in her direction. Hermione shrank back her fear returning as she belatedly remembered that this was a man who thought nothing of hitting women and that she was stuck in a time full of such men. This meant none of the men around the fire were likely to come to her aide if Gawain decided to give her a thrashing for her supposedly faulty memory.

Gawain began pacing and muttering to himself, both his men and Hermione watching him in wary silence all of the previous revelry the men had displaying was silenced in the face of their leaders wrath.

"It will not work if she does not remember… what could have gone wrong? He shall be furious… mayhap the deceitful creature _is_ lying to cause me unrest." At this point in his muttered tirade Gawain shot Hermione an evil look.

"But if she is not? What could have caused the damage to her memory?" Gawain muttered and paced some more, running his hands through his hair and over his person. His hands came to rest at his belt running over the various items stored there; they froze when they came to rest on a sealed black velvet pouch. The expression on Gawain's face was one of dawning realisation as his hands frantically scrambled at the pouches ties, having succeeded in opening the pouch he pulled out a phial which was half full of a violet coloured liquid which gave off a faint luminescence.

"The potion." He said bringing the phial up to eye level and staring at it in dawning horror. "I gave her two much, Merlin said a drop would do and I forced almost half of it down her throat." This was too much for the silent watching Hermione, the moron holding her captive had overdosed her with an unknown potion, who knew what adverse affects it had had or was still having on her!

"You what!" She shrieked sitting bolt upright and staring at him in horror. "You could have killed me! How could you be so stupid, I doubt I am much use to this wizard Merlin _dead_. You should not even be using potions you know nothing about…" Hermione abruptly cut off her rant and shrank backwards as Gawain, whose face had been getting redder and redder throughout her lecture, started moving towards her his hand raised in order to strike her.

She had again momentarily forgotten herself; she was no longer safe in her time surrounded by people who cared for her. She was not in a time where men, as a rule, did not strike women. Gawain was not one of her beloved friends or even enemies such as Malfoy, whom she could harangue perfectly secure in her physical safety. Here she must remain meek and docile, rather than confident and lecturing, it was imperative for her safety and wellbeing.

"Picts! Picts attacking!" He was interrupted from his goal as the sentry ran into the camp screaming a warning at the top of his lungs. Gawain whirled about to face the sentry staring at him incredulously, the men around the fire began scrambling for their weapons cursing. Gawain recovering from his shock started barking orders, throughout all of this Hermione sat in confusion, Picts, that name sounded awfully familiar, but where had she heard it before?

Before Hermione could gather her scattered thoughts all hell broke lose.

Men poured into the fire-lit camp, out from the surrounding hills, screaming battle cries and waving their blades in fury. Hermione's impression was of faces twisted in hatred and smeared, almost unrecognisable as human, with battle paint. Gawain's men and the attacking force clashed together in screech of metal on metal and flesh hitting flesh.

Hermione sat where she had been left frozen with shock and terror as she watched men hack at one another with several feet of sharp metallic death. She was no stranger to combat, having been part of the battle at the Ministry of Magic at the end of fifth year but nothing had prepared her for this. The sight of so much blood and gore, waving a wand and uttering various spells and incantations did not seem half so violent in the face of this grisly barbaric skirmish.

It was not until someone ran directly through the fire, scattering coals in every direction, that Hermione regained some of her wits. The destruction of the neat fire had thrown the campsite turned battlefield into even greater confusion, men fighting and dieing in near darkness, brightened only by the scattered coals of the dieing fire and the light of the moon. Perfect conditions, Hermione realised, for her to make an attempt at escape, she would worry about what she was going to do after she escaped when she was safely away from both the skirmish and more importantly Gawain and his men.

Hermione frantically looked around the now distorted camp site; she had seen Gawain remove the pack that contained her wand before he sat down it was vital, if she was to attempt an escape, for her to recover that wand. She did not even want to contemplate how she would survive, alone and stranded in time, without her wand to help her.

There!

Not to far from where she sat she spied her wand, still within its green velvet sheath, spilling from Gawain's now overturned pack. Hermione slowly began edging towards it, doing her best not to draw any attention to herself. Finally after much wriggling due to her still bound hands and feet Hermione reached the wand. Clasping it between her rope bound writes she brought it up to her mouth and began to work the green sheath off using her teeth.

Succeeding in freeing the wand she spat out the sheath and brought the tip of the wand, as best she could, against the rope binding her hands quietly and desperately murmuring a severing charm. Her breath whooshed out in relief as the charm worked and the ropes fell from her now free hands. Luckily the ropes hand not been so tight as to numb her hands and Hermione, thanking every deity she could think of, quickly set to work on the ropes binding her feet.

Feet now free of their binding Hermione began slowly edging away from the fight; she remained crouched as she feared that standing would draw to much attention to herself. She had carefully taken note of the camps layout as Gawain and his men had settled in on the chance she might find an opportunity to escape, Hermione stifled a near hysterical laugh as she heard a gurgling dieing scream, well she had been provided with an opportunity for escape alright that is if she didn't get killed in the crossfire first.

The camp had been nestled in a hollow between two hills at the edge of the woods, sentries been placed around the raised hillside to watch for attack. There was only one way of leaving the camp that did not require ascending a hill, something which was sure to make her clearly visible to the combatants. This was by following the stream that slipped through a narrow crevice to continue onwards down the slope of the hill, approaching this crevice was not a problem as Gawain, whether through cockiness or simple oversight had placed Hermione quite near the escape route.

Hermione by this time had worked herself completely into the shadows surrounding the crevices opening, throwing one last terrified glance at the now blood covered fighting men she turned her back and slipped through the opening. She was careful no to slip into the stream; she did not want the splashing to alert anyone to her escape.

Emerging from the gap between the two hills Hermione paused momentarily to catch her breath and reveal in her freedom, then, without a thought for the consequences, she dashed recklessly into the woods bordering the stream. She ran through the tangled oppressive darkness, determined to put as much distance between herself and the skirmish as possible.

After running for what seemed like hours, though in truth it probably wasn't very long at all Hermione was not the most athletic of people and the long skirts of her somewhat the worse for wear dress were hindering her progress, Hermione paused in a moonlit clearing to catch her breath.

Her heart was hammering and she could feel the sweat, both from fear and exertion, dampening her body. She was alone, and while been alone in the middle of the woods at night was not her usual notion of security at this moment Hermione felt like falling to her knees in relief.

She would have done just that if it wasn't for the fact that she was _not_ in actual fact alone, a stray Pict had noticed her escape from the camp and, seeing an opportunity for some fun with an obviously noble British Lady, had stealthily followed her flight away from the camp. Now was the time to make his move as, he judged sinisterly to himself, they were now far enough away from anyone who was likely to come to her aid if they heard her screams.

A scream tore itself from Hermione's throat at as heavy weight slammed into her, bearing her body to the ground. She stared in horror at the war painted face poised above her, he was speaking in a rough guttural language that she did not understand his intent, however, Hermione realised was perfectly clear and she began to fiercely struggle against his restraining limbs.

She did not waste her breath trying to speak to someone who was unlikely to understand her or care if they did, instead she concentrated her efforts of freeing the arm the held her wand. Hermione twisted her head away as he lowered his head to her own, his fetid breath wafting over her face making her want to gag. His hands were roughly scrambling at her clothes and Hermione was for once grateful to be wearing the complicated voluminous green dress. If she had been clothed in her standard school uniform she feared it all would have already been over.

At last, just as his hand had found its way under her skirt and was making its way up her leg, Hermione freed the arm holding her wand she aimed it at him preparing to shout a curse. Too late she noticed the knife in his hand, as she shouted _stupefy_ the force of the curse throwing him off her body; she felt a blinding pain in her right shoulder, the arm holding her wand.

Unsteadily Hermione rose to her feet wand outstretched despite the agony this action caused, her other hand was unconsciously pressed to her wand arms shoulder. Against all odds the man she had cursed was already stirring, clambering to his feet and shaking his head repeatedly as if to shake off the effects of her spell.

Hermione felt despair well up inside her as he began making his way towards her again, she would not last through a second round, especially since he now knew what her wand could do and would doubtless take it away from her. Of course if she was lucky he would, rather than raping her, now apprehend her as a witch and have her burnt at the stake. If she was even in a time when they did burn witches at the stake, if she was in a time before witch burnings she might be kept as a slave and be made to cast magic for him and his people.

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to attempt another spell and the Pict began to lunge in her direction another person entered the scene. This new person slammed into the Pict bearing him to the ground at Hermione's feet, the two figures struggling back and forth. Whimpering, her vision starting to turn hazy she stumbled a few steps away from the struggling figures.

The hand holding her wand lowered and she brought the hand that had been pressing down on her shoulder up to her face. The hand was stained red, completely covered in a shiny wet substance, visible even in the darkness. Hermione regarded the hand in confusion, as if it did not belong to her, why was her hand drenched in a slimy red sticky substance? How had that happened?

"My Lady?" A gentle voice questioned, Hermione raised her eyes to find the second stranger standing in front of her. Automatically she cast her eyes around for the first man, the one with the painted face, the one who had attacked her. She found him lying on the ground behind the stranger, his eyes were open, blankly gazing at the sky, he was dead Hermione slowly realised his throat was cut a gruesome red smile across his neck.

The second man, the stranger who had saved her subtly moved in order to block her view of the dead man. She couldn't make out his features in the near darkness only that he was tall and broad shouldered with shoulder length dark hair.

"My Lady?" He asked again, "Are you injured?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply that of course she wasn't and did he realise that you couldn't just go around killing people, no matter how much they might deserve it? No sound passed her lips and her eyes moved again to her wet red hand, everything was starting to become rather hazy and the pain in her shoulder really was quiet unbearable. Maybe, maybe she _was_ injured, but if that was the case then the red substance on her hand must be blood, _her_ blood and she couldn't possibly have lost that much blood. Could she?

With that last confused thought Hermione did something quiet out of character, she swayed and the stranger moved forwards to catch her as she fainted into his arms.

* * *

THE PRESENT 

Harry watched frozen as the last traces of blue fire faded from the stone circle, leaving the centre quiet empty of its previous occupants.

Hermione was gone.

No trace of either her or her abductor remained; Harry stared in disbelief at the place his best friend should have been standing. He didn't understand how this had happened, no more than an hour ago he and Ron had been waiting in the common room for Hermione to go to the Halloween Ball.

Ron, Harry's eyes widened in remembrance and he turned and rushed to the fallen red-head's side. Ron was lying silent and still in the corridor his limbs splayed haphazardly where he had landed after he slid down the wall. Harry was relieved to note that his friends breathing was even and steady; he had just been knocked unconscious it seemed.

As he watched Ron began to stir moaning in pain as he returned to consciousness, he slowly sat up rubbing his head. Harry moved forwards to help his friend supporting him as he regained his wits.

"Harry?" He mumbled confused as he looked around dazedly. "What are we doing in the dungeons?"

"What is the last thing you remember?" Harry asked his friend earnestly, dreading having to tell him about Hermione's disappearance.

"The… Ball… Hermione… HERMIONE!" Ron suddenly exclaimed sitting bolt upright and looking around frantically. "Where is she Harry? Please tell me you managed to save her?"

"She's gone Ron." Harry said hanging his head in shame.

"What do you mean gone?" Ron asked loudly. "She can't be gone, she was right here and she's told us herself a thousand times that you can't disapparate off Hogwarts grounds."

"I don't think she took into account ancient stone circles mate." Harry said quietly, as he spoke a grinding sound filled the air and as the boys watched the wall began to close over the opening to the chamber containing the stone circle.

"You mean that guy that had her… he used an old pile of stones to take Hermione somewhere?" Ron asked sceptically.

"A stone circle Ron." Harry said exasperated. "Even muggles have stories about how magical they're supposed to be.

"Yeah, but that sort of magic's only in legend." Ron said impatiently. "Nobody uses ancient ruins like that in magic anymore; I don't think anyone knows how."

"Well, someone obviously does." Harry said grimly. "Because Hermione's gone and whoever it was that took her used that stone circle to do it."

"What do we do?" Ron asked in a very small voice, "We have to help her."

"Well first we should mark this section of wall so we don't forget where the opening is, then…" Harry paused. "Then we need to go see Professor Dumbledore." Since the events of fifth year Harry had lost his blind faith in the Headmaster, the fact that he was willing to go straight to the old wizard with this problem showed just how serious he felt it was. "Are you okay to walk?" He asked Ron helping the redhead to his feet.

"I'm okay to run." Ron replied grimly. Using his wand Harry marked the section of wall with a glittering red X so they would not lose the spot. Then both bys set out at a dead sprint back through the passageways of the dungeons to find Professor Dumbledore and hopefully help for their friend.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, if you did please review! Expect the next chap in about a week. 


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